


Idle Hands

by PlotQueen



Series: Unexpected [2]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Animal Death, Child Abuse, F/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-01
Updated: 2000-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlotQueen/pseuds/PlotQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward saves Anita. Again. And then is attacked by one thing he can't fight: his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idle Hands

The memories forced themselves forward, no matter how he tried to fight them. His father was giving him a lesson again. One on why he shouldn’t spend too much time loving anything, because one day they’ll be gone. Taken away. Just like he was doing to Sam. 

Edward rolled over on the bed, his pale curls matting against his sweaty forehead. Sam was being taken. Not taken, just tortured. The voices were clear in his dream. 

“Why? He’s just a puppy!” 

“There’s a lesson to be learned.” Harsh, cruel. 

Memories were dangerous. Edward had killed the puppy himself out of pity. 

Edward clawed his way from the dream, his breathing ragged. He had to make a conscious effort to calm it so he wouldn’t wake the sleeping figure on the far side of the bed. Anita still slept peacefully, exhausted from the fights she’d been through earlier in the night. 

Ever aware of her, Edward slid from the bed. He needed fresh air; the dream was clinging to him. Fresh air and stale cigarettes he decided as he silently went to the balcony of the hotel room. There was a light dusting of snow on it as he slipped through the door, but he didn’t feel the cold despite only wearing jeans. 

The cold that was still inside him was far worse. 

He slid a cigarette from the mostly empty pack and brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply as he lit it. Then the pack and the lighter went carefully on the railing next to where he stood. The cigarette was stale, but the very act of it was soothing to his nerves. Though he hadn’t smoked in years, it came back easily. 

The day had been too long, he mused silently as he inhaled again, absently flicking the ashes from the cigarette. He’d been awake since before dawn, staking out Anita’s house on the rumor of a werewolf trying to kill her. 

Whatever protection she had enjoyed as lupa of the pack had disappeared the second she cut herself off from the wolf, and after nearly a year of indecisiveness from their Ulfric, one of them had decided to kill Anita to force him to choose a new lupa. 

The only thing that had saved her as she was leaving her house that evening had been him. But in the end her house was trashed from the fight and he’d offered to let her stay at his hotel until her house could be cleaned. 

She’d showered and crawled into the bed, almost immediately falling into what looked like a dreamless sleep. He envied her as he’d watched. 

And for a time, she was all he thought of. 

\---

Anita woke to darkness and a sense of disorientation until she remembered where she was. Edward’s hotel room. Only there was no Edward. He’d been sitting next to the bed when she fell asleep, but that was hours ago she realized as she looked at the clock on the nightstand. 

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she saw him standing on the balcony in the snow and moonlight. She pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself and padded out onto the balcony. 

He was there, leaning against the railing watching the city lights. His gun was in his hand and a crumpled pack of cigarettes was at his feet. There were six crushed butts neatly lined up on the railing in front of him. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke, Edward,” she said softly, her breath a pale mist in the icy air. 

Edward didn’t move, he just stared out at the lights. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Anita,” was all he said. 

She pulled the blanket from around her and held it out to him. “Wouldn’t want you to get sick.” 

Edward reached out for it, his fingers sliding across hers, lingering too long. Her hand was small and soft and warm under his own cold one, and he gazed at it intently. 

“I want to know…” Anita said softly, and it was a shock when his eyes met hers. In the night they no longer looked blue, but intensely black and almost frightening. Almost, but not quite. 

He looked at her a moment longer and then jerked his hand back, dropping the blanket between them in the snow. Silence a moment longer, and then he pushed past her into the room. 

When she followed, he was gone. 

\---

The rounds flew steadily to the target as Edward tried to forget the previous night. Another empty clip; he stopped to reload. 

His eyes closed for a moment and then snapped open, but the vision still danced just behind them. More in his memory. A place he couldn’t cut out, as much as he’d like to. 

The way she’d looked at him, he wanted to forget it. 

Oh yes, memories were dangerous. Memories, and idle hands.


End file.
